Dal Capo al Coda
by Saavik13
Summary: James Kirk has a lot to learn when he takes command of the Enterprise. One of the largest lessons is that you never stop learning. Episode by episode look at the relationship of Kirk and Spock. Will follow canon but with a cherry on top. (Formally titled Shades of Grey after the Monkey's song, but for obvious reasons it was changed.)
1. Where One Man Has Gone Before

_A/N: This story will go episode by episode in production order. Each chapter will take place directly following the end of the episode. Camera stops, story starts. _

_While eventual slash will be present, the story will be completely canon compliant up until Star Trek: Generations. (I can't believe they killed Kirk by making him fall off a bloody ladder!) I'll make sure and give you good warning prior to anything slashy appearing so all you none fans of K/S won't have to worry about stumbling into anything that might hurt your eyes. To be honest this will mostly be a friendship fic, at least until well into Season 2.  
_

_Highly suggest you watch each episode prior to reading. There are subtle nuances that will be missed if the dialog and facial expression aren't fresh in your mind._

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**Where One Man Has Gone Before - (This is not a typo people.)  
**

Jim Kirk couldn't believe it was over. His friend--dead. His first real mission as Captain of the _Enterprise_, and he'd just lost his first crew member, and his best friend. Kirk slowly stood up from the command chair and walked towards the turbo lift. He absent mindedly handed the bridge over to the next duty crew and didn't pay much attention to the fact that the Vulcan Mr. Spock had followed him until the lift had already started on its way to the command quarters.

Spock looked the captain over careful before he ventured to speak. "Captain, I was wondering if we could schedule a rematch."

Jim blinked in confusion for a moment before his mind finally dredged up the chess match. God, that seemed like ages ago...he shook his head. "I'm sorry Mr. Spock; I am not really in the mood at the moment."

Spock nodded and wordlessly exited the turbolift when it stopped at their floor. He was a good way down the hall when Kirk changed his mind.

"Mr. Spock?" Spock turned at the sound of Jim's voice and raised an eyebrow in question. Kirk fought hard and mustered up a smile, knowing full well it looked pained. "On second thought, if losing has you so upset," Spock's eyebrow shot into his hair line. "I guess I could work in another game."

"I believe you may have misinterpreted my offer." Spock walked back towards the captain. "I may have underestimated you once, sir. It is unlikely to happen again."

This time Jim's smile was genuine. "Well then Mr. Spock, let's see what you've got hidden between those ears."

Kirk keyed his door open and offered a sweeping gesture of welcome into his quarters. Spock strode through the open door and stepped out of the way to allow the captain inside. Even the commanding officer had little room to spare in his quarters. Jim moved to the left and gestured towards the chair that backed the bookcase in his sitting area. Spock sat down and Kirk riffled through a packing crate before he found the board and pieces. He set them down on the table and Spock helped him riffle through the case to find all the right pieces. Without asking Spock took black.

Jim realized fairly quickly that Spock hadn't been kidding. This game was nothing like their first. Spock was matching him move for move, without a seeming effort. Jim laughed to himself. He should have known the Vulcan was sizing him up before. Mr. Spock could have had command of the _Enterprise _himself had he ever shown even a hint of command ambition. Starfleet was well aware of his potential and Jim Kirk would do well to remember that his greatest rival for control of the ship and crew was sitting across from him. In order to win the respect of the _Enterprise_, he was going to have to win over Mr. Spock.

Spock appraised the board carefully and lifted his bishop off the board and twirled it a moment before taking one of Kirk's knights with a flourish. Jim resolved himself to getting down to business.

It didn't take long before the captain was outright laughing at what he knew was a joke, but he couldn't believe he'd just heard it from a Vulcan. For his part, Spock gave no outside indication he'd just made a pun of galactic proportions, nor that it had his captain in stitches. Jim couldn't even remember what it was a minute later, but the good mood was welcome. After another few turns, however, Jim began to see an ulterior motive to Spock's offer of a rematch.

"I believe I owe you a thanks, Mr. Spock." Jim smiled and picked up his queen.

Spock raised an eyebrow; ignored Kirk's bate, and instead moved his knight out of the way of a cleverly placed pawn on a different level. "Indeed, Captain?"

Kirk nodded and frowned at the board, quickly running out of viable options. "You are distracting me on purpose, trying to keep my mind off our last mission."

"True." Spock acknowledged. "It does appear to be having success."

Jim snorted. "I wouldn't have pegged you as the type." He gave up and shoved the board to the side of the table. "Dr. McCoy, perhaps, but not you."

Spock tilted his head to the side. "I am not without emotions, captain. I simply do not allow them expression or control. I am, however, half human. I recognize pain when it is present, even in others." Spock leaned forward in his chair placing his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. "You have suffered a great loss today and I grieve with thee."

Jim lost his smile at the traditional words of Vulcan comfort, but nevertheless was grateful for a chance to talk.

"Gary was my best friend." Spock leaned back in his chair and nodded for Kirk to continue. "I really thought taking this command would mean we'd have some time together again. It's been years since we got to really do anything together." Jim closed his eyes briefly. "I know, I'm not portraying the image of Captain very well, am I?"

"To the contrary, sir. If you did not feel the loss of a friend and crewmate you would not have the ability to command. The crew does not follow a man with no emotional connection to them."

Jim looked sharply at the Vulcan, taking in the full meaning of that statement. "Do really believe that?"

Spock nodded. "It has been my experience that the crew of the _Enterprise_ requires a captain that does not command but leads through the sharing of their pleasures and their pains. If they do not see this taking place they do not give him the respect deserving of the position." Spock leaned forward once more. "Today you have demonstrated a remarkable capacity for reaching them, for allowing them to reach you. The _Enterprise_ is in good hands, sir. I do not make that statement lightly. Captain Pike is not an easy man to replace."

"No, no he isn't." Kirk sighed. "I shouldn't be dumping my problems on you."

"You are welcome to dump," Spock gave a small tiny frown, "whenever you require it, captain. The position you hold is not immune to stress. I believe humans call this venting."

Jim laughed. "That they do, Mr. Spock." Jim stood up and Spock followed suit. "I realize my calling an end to the game is likely to be seen as a strategic withdrawal," He could have sworn Spock smirked. "But as unlikely as the prospect seems I really should try and sleep."

Spock nodded and headed for the door. "Oh, and Mr. Spock," Spock turned back around. "Please, call me Jim."

Spock looked hard at the Captain before nodding curtly. "I do not have another name to offer you, Jim. But I believe the formality with mine is unnecessary."

Again, Jim smiled and Spock's eyes warmed a small bit. Kirk gave a little start as Spock extended his hand.

"I thought Vulcan didn't shake hands."

"They do not, under normal circumstances." Spock did not retract his hand and Jim slowly reached out to shake it. "I believe we have reached an understanding. I do not wish to leave it unacknowledged. My human mother would strongly disapprove if I were to do so."

Jim had almost forgotten Spock was only half-Vulcan but he smiled and nodded anyway before a large yawn forced him to withdraw his hand to cover his mouth. It seemed like he was suddenly far more exhausted than he had been a second before.

"It is 10.2 hours till you are required for the next duty shift. I will leave you to rest." Spock spun on his heel and was out the door before Jim could even say goodnight. It didn't take more than a second after his head hit the hard red pillow before he was out cold.

In the corridor, Spock nodded in satisfaction at the closed door. Walking over to the wall com unit he connected to the bridge.

"Mr. Umato, for the next 10.2 hours until the duty change please contact me with any command related concerns. The captain is not to be disturbed."

"Aye, Sir." Umato acknowledged and Spock quickly moved to his own quarters. While his Vulcan father would be highly displeased if he ever learned that Spock had used a Vulcan mind technique to put his captain to sleep, he knew his human mother would approve. Jim Kirk reminded Spock of Amanda, and the science officer knew that under the circumstances she would have considered the act a kindness.


	2. Corbomite Removal

_A/N: You'll notice this chapter is much shorter. Not every episode has the same level of K/S development be it friendship or more. So, this chapter is not as in-depth as the last. It does however show the progression from Pike to Kirk's command style and how it is still a work in progress. _

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When Captain Kirk returned to the Enterprise minus Bailey he found Spock waiting for him in the transporter room. Spock just raised an eyebrow at him in question and Jim shrugged, a wide grin on his face. "What can I say, Mr. Spock. We passed the test."

"Test, Captain?" Spock asked, following Jim out into the corridor. "I take it the mission went well? And where is Mr. Bailey?"

The doctor smirked. "Oh, getting filled to the gills with Tranya I'd wager. We left him behind for a cultural exchange. Jim thinks it'll do him good."

"And you agreed, Doctor." Jim smacked the CMO on the back and the group split, the doctor heading for sick-bay while Kirk and Spock continued to the officer's quarters. They entered the turbolift and Kirk flipped the com switch and gave orders to the bridge to depart to their next coordinates to continue the star mapping.

"Well, Mr. Spock. Quite a day." Jim grinned but felt his smile falter at the look on the Vulcan's face. "What is it?"

Spock drew up straight and quirked his eyebrow. "I am not accustomed to being left behind when the captain goes to 'face the unknown.' I must admit that I do not relish the experience."

Jim frowned. "I needed you here, Spock. If it had been a trap I'd have needed you to take care of the _Enterprise_, get her out off here. I couldn't have trusted her to anyone else." Jim smiled at his fellow officer and risked a hand on his arm. "You are the best first officer in the fleet and there will be times when you'll have to take command over an away mission."

They exited the turbolift and Jim still had a hold of Spock's arm, nearly forcing him into his quarters. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Spock!" Jim smiled softly at the incredulous look on Spock's face. "I know, you don't like to be left behind, can't say I blame you. I take point when regs say it should be the first officer because I can't bear to sit back and wait myself."

Spock sat down stiffly. "It is not the waiting, Jim. It is the danger you faced alone. I could not assist you from the bridge. Even without my presence the _Enterprise_ would have been commanded well enough by either Mr.'s Scott or Sulu to disengage and leave the area. You did not have adequate assistance should a problem have arisen while on Balok's ship. The doctor is not security trained and Mr. Bailey had already proven his tendency to panic."

Kirk took out two glasses and poured them both a drink. "Good thing Balok was really a small funny little fuzzy eye browed alien then. I really hope he's not like your father. Sort of the anti-Vulcan really."

Spock's eyebrow rose again and shook his head. "I will look forward to reading your report."

"No need." Kirk flipped a switch on his desk. "Captain's log..." He began his report letting Spock listen to everything live rather than making him wait till later for answers.

When he got done dictating his report he refilled both their glasses. "So, what do you think? Second big crisis of my command. How am I measuring up?"

Spock leaned back in his chair and contemplated his answer. "Your respect for life is admirable. Your handling of the situation with Mr. Bailey was interesting."

"Meaning?" Jim leaned across the desk.

Spock took a moment to answer. "You entered the situation with what appeared to be amusement and what my mother would have called a peaceful joy. You seemed excited by the prospect of an adventure and found Mr. Bailey's attitude to the probe to be entertaining." Spock gave a small frown. "When Balok failed to behave as you expected him to, against what you saw as logical for a being in his position, you became quickly agitated."

Jim nodded. "He pissed me off. Here I am trying to teach Bailey a lesson and the damn object of that lesson won't behave himself."

Spock's eyes positively twinkled. "Jim, you are an unorthodox captain. That being said, I do believe you will do well. You need to stop questioning yourself after every mission, however."

"Oh I'm not questioning myself. I'm questioning you." Jim smirked at Spock's raised brow. "Look, you've been on this ship for years. Everyone knows you. The easy comradery you have with Sulu and Scotty is palpable. Newbies like Bailey and I, well we don't fit into the picture yet. I know that in order to win over the rest of the crew I've got to win over you. I'm just getting a progress report on that. After all, I've only been here about a month. Most of the crew had been with Pike for several years."

"There is no comparison between the two of you, Jim." Spock sipped his drink. "Pike was an officer first, a friend second if at all. You command with more personal attention, more care. It is difficult for some to adjust to, but once the switch is made the crew will respond favorably to you. Have you been given any reason to believe otherwise? It has been my observation that the change of command has gone smoothly and that any resistance to your style of command has been put to rest, with the noticeable exception of Dr. McCoy. Although from his StarFleet record it would appear this is his normal behavior pattern."

"No, no I haven't." Jim smiled softly. "Just want to make sure. You're a hard man to get loyalty out of, Spock. I've heard tell of those that have tried and failed to gain your respect."

"You have already gained my respect and my loyalty, Captain. You need no longer question it." Spock stood up from the table. "At some point we will need to discuss this game of poker you mimicked today. I believe it may be in my best interests to learn when you are bluffing. You appear quite skilled in the art."

Jim laughed and shook his head. "Act of desperation I assure you. Still can't believe it worked."

"Luck is not logical." Spock looked away. "But I find that when dealing with humans it is often the only logical explanation."

"Thanks, I think." Jim smiled and Spock started to turn to leave. "Oh, and Mr. Spock?"

"Yes, Captain?" Spock turned back and raised a brow in question.

"Can you get the crew to stop yelling orders back and forth across the bridge? I'm not deaf and I don't need information parroted back."

"It is regulation." Spock cocked his head. "However, it is also your bridge. I will pass your request on to the rest of brew crew. So long as StarFleet does not lodge a complaint at the lack of decorum the crew will most likely be willing to comply." With that, he stepped out into the corridor letting the door swish shut.

Kirk sat at his desk for a long moment before shaking his head. That Vulcan still confused him.


	3. Mudd's Mud

Remember, story progresses in PRODUCTION order. We've had _Where No Man Goes Before,_and _Corbormite Maneuver_. This chapter directly follows _Mudd's Women_.

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It wasn't often that Jim felt like his first officer was laughing at him. But ever since Mudd had stepped foot on the ship Jim had been certain that was exactly what Spock was doing behind those pointy ears of his.

At least Jim could say with all certainty he hadn't been nearly as taken in as the rest of his crew. Maybe he'd seen too many pretty faces, but while lovely and unquestionably alluring the women hadn't been enough to completely undo him. Scotty and McCoy, by all accounts, had been much worse off. And Jim wasn't even going to mention the crew in general. The slobber had been an inch thick on the deck plates. If they'd stayed much longer the female crew members would have skinned the women alive.

Still, Jim was positive Spock wasn't laughing at the others quite like this.

That Vulcan smirk was still on his face _hours_ after they'd left the colony. Even sitting here across the table contemplating his next chess move Spock was acting amused. How he'd gotten to be able to read the man so quickly was a mystery, but James Kirk never questioned a talent when it presented itself. So he could read the half-Vulcan like a book. Big deal. At the moment that wasn't helping him one bit. An amused Vulcan was not good company if the source of said amusement was your own foolishness.

Spock looked up from the chess board and raised his eyebrow in question before he gave a resigned sigh and pushed the board aside. "Eve was a remarkable woman."

Jim looked up in surprise. Now that he had his captain's attention Spock leaned back in his chair and regarded the other man with dark eyes. "She apologized for Mudd when he insinuated I had no _feelings_. Remarkable that she would believe it necessary to do so." Spock's mouth gave a small quirk that Jim had come to recognize as irritation. "I'd rather have had an apology for being called part 'Vulcanian' as well as knowing how he was able to discern my hybrid status." Spock crossed his arms stiffly. "Why you Terrans insist on placing unnecessary suffixes onto other species names is simply beyond my comprehension."

Jim couldn't stop the laugh that fairly burst out of him at that. "Spock, you mean to tell me you were more insulted that he mangled your specie's name than that Eve assumed you were offended by being called emotionless?"

Spock drew up sharply. "Captain, I simply recognized Eve's good intentions. She had little exposure to outside culture. For her it was natural to assume I would take offense. It is Mudd that I find…repugnant." Spock gave a small frown. "The term 'Vulcanian' is somewhat vulgar and is generally only used by pro-human factions. The last time I was called such it was by a group of drunken cadets that resented my appointment at the Academy. I did not appreciate Mudd's use of the term. The man was…abhorrent."

"To tell you the truth I found him rather amusing, if troublesome." Jim admitted with an apologetic smile. "It's an unfortunate truth that it's men like that who are responsible for Earth's rapid colonization. It's…a painful reality."

"Men like that are why humans are banned from several star systems." Spock muttered. "My mother would have loved to have gotten her hands on him. She'd have likely caused him permanent harm."

Jim took a sip of his drink and relaxed back in his chair. "Why? What does she have against his kind? From the way you said that it sounds personal."

Spock looked away for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. "Personal matters are rarely discussed by Vulcans, Jim." Spock let out a soft sigh. "But it is my understanding that doing so is imperative to what you humans call friendship." Spock locked eyes with his captain. "I ask that you do not share this information."

It was only when Jim nodded his consent that Spock started talking again. "Mother wasn't born on Earth. Her family were spacers and she thinks she was born in flight somewhere near Andoria. They didn't even bother to record the exact day let alone the location. Her father was much like Mudd- at least by her description. He was unscrupulous, manipulative, and generally motivated by the basest portion of his nature. She left the ship one day when it was docked at a spaceport in Tellarite territory. She was looking for a new pair of shoes. He made her mother leave her there. Later, when the authorities caught up to them, they claimed she was too much of a financial burden. They turned her custody over to the Federation. The spaceport authorities estimated she was 6 Earth years old at the time, although her growth had been negatively affected by constant space travel with an inadequately shielded vessel and a lack of proper nutrition. It is possible she was considerably older. Her birth parents hadn't even bothered to teach her the basics of the alphabet. She couldn't even sign her name on the court documents."

Jim hung his head. "I'm sorry, Spock. I wish that was the first story like that I've heard. It's…not a good way to start life."

"No, it is not." Spock agreed. "However, she was adopted by an older couple without children and taken to Earth. They provided her with remedial education and she was able to quickly catch up to her peers. By the time she entered secondary school there was little left of the uneducated, frightened child she had been. All that remains of that past is her intense dislike for individuals like Harcourt Fenton Mudd."

"You didn't seem to hate him when he was here." Jim shook his head in confusion. "I could tell you didn't care for the man, but you don't seem to have inherited your mother's hatred."

Spock picked up a chess piece and twirled it absently in his fingers. "No, I did not. Mudd was not the one that abandoned my mother. His crimes are not nearly so onerous as those of my biological grandfather."

Jim leaned forward against the table. "Did you ever try to find them? Your mother's birth parents I mean."

Spock shook his head. "My father located mother's parents when I was born. According to Vulcan custom a child forges a slight mental bond with close family members. While my father did not intend for that to take place with my biological human grandparents he still wished for them to be present for the ceremony seeing as both my mother's adoptive parents had already passed. He thought confronting her birth parents might help mother to let go of her pain. He considered my birth the ideal impetus for reconciliation – as a diplomat he thought he was suited to the task of arbitrating their meeting." Spock set the chess piece down with a sharp clang. "He found my grandfather serving a life sentence in a rehabilitation colony for killing my grandmother and my infant aunt not two years after he'd abandoned mother at the spaceport."

"Oh God, Spock, I'm so sorry." Jim risked a hand on Spock's arm and was slightly shocked when Spock didn't shake it off. "That had to be a terrible thing to grow up knowing."

"I did not." Spock lowered his eyes to where Jim's hand still rested on his arm but made no attempt to remove it. "He did not inform mother of his discovery. It was not until I made the announcement my decision to enter Star Fleet Academy that he informed us. He thought the knowledge of my ancestry would compel me to stay on Vulcan and to go further in the study of the mental disciplines. He thought mother would take his side in this, believing as he did that it was necessary for me to have more control because of this familiar history of violence. He did not understand why mother was insulted by this. She had been apposed to my choice, but after father's revelation she helped me pack."

Jim squeezed Spock's arm once before letting go. "Mothers are highly interesting creatures, Spock. She was probably worried as hell about you but her anger at your father was enough to make her go firmly to your camp. After all, he'd just insulted both of you and linked her to a man she hated. It's not surprising she sided with you."

"It did not last." Spock 's mouth gave another quirk of irritation. "She thought I would take a planet bound assignment or stay on as an instructor at the Academy. When I wrote to her of my assignment to the Enterprise under Pike she was…displeased."

"She was worried." Jim clarified. "You're an only child, right? She doesn't have anyone else besides you and your father. It's not easy being that alone."

Spock nodded. "I know. I still have a tentative link to mother and on occasion I can detect…her feelings on the matter. Although she is human she has always been able to maintain the Vulcan mental bonds. We stay in periodic contact, when father is away and she can manage to get a message to me undetected."

"He won't even let her send a message?" Jim asked, his anger growing towards Spock's father.

"He has not forbidden it." Spock explained. "He refuses to hear of me and no longer claims me as a son, but he did not place such a restriction on mother. But it is hard for her to communicate to me and then not mention something to him. It is easier for her to limit contact. Society on Vulcan is far more structured than on Earth. If it were common knowledge that she had maintained contact with a disowned child against her husband's wishes it would make life more difficult for her than it already is."

Jim sighed. "You miss her."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "To miss her would be to show an emotion."

"Yeah, yeah it would." Jim agreed and smiled softly at Spock. It was obvious that Spock wasn't going to come right out and say it, but the man clearly missed his mother. Spock never wanted to be accused of being half-human, never wanted it to be obvious in his behavior or visage, but he was always quick to admit his connection to this human in particular. Jim wasn't about to call him a mama's boy to his face, but it was readily apparent who Spock was closest to of his family, disownment not taken into consideration. Spock clearly didn't feel like sharing anything else either, his body language conveying he was starting to feel uncomfortable. Oh a whim, Kirk turned the conversation back onto himself. "So, what horrific childhood drama would you like to know in return? I've got a ton of dirt on my brother Sam. Did you know he almost got a girl pregnant in school?"

Spock's eyebrow slowly lowered. "I am not accustomed to asking personal questions, Jim. However, if you are offering, I have been puzzled by something I discovered prior to your taking command. I have found it useful to read the personnel files for incoming ship crew and did so when your name was listed as a possible replacement for Pike. Perhaps you could explain why there is a sealed note in your personnel record dating from your early teen years? You were not yet even in consideration for the academy. It is unusual that a civilian would be in a situation that would warrant a sealed note on their record, one that would follow them into service years later. I did not feel it was my place to use my security clearance to pry into your personal matters and thus did not open the sealed portion of your record. If it is not too personal, what is the note and why is it sealed? Granted it requires a very low security clearance to access, but it is unusual."

Jim felt himself go pale and Spock immediately started to apologize. "No, Spock. Don't. You have every right to ask. It's no more personal what you just shared." Jim took a deep breath. "When I was a kid I did pretty well in school. There was this exchange program for gifted students that sent kids out to colony worlds and let us get some exposure to different cultures and the technologies that were being used out in the field. I'm from a farming area and I'd done a few science fair projects on alternative grain production methods so when this program started up I applied to the agricultural section and was accepted. I was supposed to spend 6 months on an agricultural colony where I could see some of those alternative methods in action." Jim swallowed thickly "The note…I was on Tarsus IV."


	4. The Enemy of My Enemy

The Enemy of My Enemy: Follows the Enemy Within

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James T. Kirk let the door to his quarters slide shut behind him. His eyes ached. His shoulders ached. And his soul ached.

He did not remember much from the 'evil' Kirk's mind. That side of himself seemed to have very little memory retention – almost pure instinct. What he could remember of that half was more feelings and impressions, and a couple of things it would have been better if he could forget. But the 'good' half, he had all those memories.

When he first materialized in the transporter room, the dizziness seemed the only odd thing. It really did. How easy it was to forget half yourself when that half was something you wanted to forget – had tried all your life to forget. He'd felt normal and it wasn't until he discovered he could not function properly as captain that he'd understood that there was a difference.

But the second when the transporter had smashed him back together, when the memories and impressions combined, when that happened he felt the joy the dark half had felt at forgetting the good half, the sheer joy that aggressive side had indulged in from the very moment he'd materialized in the empty transporter room. His worse half had known in an instant what had happened and had relished in it. Why was evil so much quicker to notice? And was he evil; was that half bad-- dark? Or was it something more or less?

Jim wearily set down on his bed to pull the tight uniform boots off. He made short work of the rest of the uniform, stripping down to Star Fleet issue underwear and laying down on the scratchy red bed. Why they couldn't make blankets out of something soft was beyond him. They could travel the stars, beam people around, and blow up planets but they still couldn't come up with a soft blanket. Kirk laid there for a moment before pulling the tight covers back and climbing under the thin material. It was no good. He couldn't distract himself from the issue at hand, the issue of himself-- who he was.

Maybe if he meditated on it like Spock had jokingly suggested just before he'd left the bridge. Maybe if he did that, dissected the whole experience memory by memory he'd understand it better. Or at least be able to process the two points of view without losing his mind.

Jim closed his eyes and tried to remember what that book he'd read in his school days had said about meditation. Clear mind. Well, that wasn't going to work. Calm breathing. That he could do. Okay, one out of two wasn't so bad.

Jim slowed his heart and breathing down and tried to find the first memory from his time as two people. Since he had the most memories of his 'good' side, he'd start there. When was the first indication something was off? Spock's checking on him had been odd. The idea of himself as a "wild man" demanding brandy had been strange.

Then there was the feeling when he first saw the dog and realized the truth, even if he couldn't admit it to himself. He'd known he was different when he saw the dog. He just knew. But he hadn't said anything. How do you tell someone you've been split in two? The decision of what to do with Sulu had taken the dilemma away for a while and he'd hoped that as impossible as it was, that his second self would just fade away.

The next memory was interposed over that one. His darker half lusting after yeoman Rand stood out in his mind like an Iowa twister. The dash through the halls, the fight. The feel of her nails, the blood on his hand. That memory was clear as day, even after the merging in the transporter. And that part of him still relished her fear. Still wanted to go down to her cabin and rip that tantalizing red uniform-dress off her curvaceous body. To pull that ridiculous hair style down. To make her scream and beg and plead. To reduce her to a whimpering nothing underneath him. To claim her. To own her. To command her.

Yet right along with that need, that force of domination, was the confusion of seeing her so damaged, so scared. The anger and the fear he'd felt at whoever had done it. The terrified and apologetic look on her face as she'd basically told him he could have raped her and she would never have said a thing. That he'd tried to, almost had, and the only reason she was there was because of the crewman that had interrupted it. All because he was her captain. He had that much of a hold on her and he'd never had to ask for it. He commanded her that much already.

Then there was the terror he'd felt when he'd thought that Spock and Bones would believe her. He hadn't done it, he knew he hadn't, but Yeoman Rand wouldn't have lied, nor would the transporter chief. Then the relief. Spock's sure voice cutting through his panic. "There is only one logical answer. We have an impostor aboard." Thank God for Spock.

He could remember in vivid detail how hard it was to concentrate and the pain of Spock's anger at him. It was all so hard. "The luxury of being anything less than perfect." Spock had said he didn't have that as captain. He'd never had that. He'd never had the luxury, never allowed himself to. Yet he had been there, so very far from perfect, every decision nearly impossible.

And while that was going on, he could also remember the unending rage. That terrible pit of boiling hate inside him was what made him great. His need to dominate, his animal instinct to be the alpha dog, that was what allowed him to command. He could not escape that fact now. He had given himself over to his baser instincts to become the man, the captain, that he was.

And that first sight of himself, shrinking back – advancing at the same time. It was all a jumble, enough to drive him insane. Or else he was already there. He could see himself from both sides at once in his memory. His mind trying and failing to grasp the truth of it all. It felt more like video playback than a memory.

But he could see one thing more clearly than all the rest. Spock coming down on him like a cat pouncing on his prey, his hand reaching out and felling him. The pain threw his shoulder, the darkness raising. Spock's strength saving and damning him at the same time. The devil if there ever was one. And the glee in Spock's voice as he talked about wanting to experiment on the human psyche. And the Vulcan's odd tone when he'd looked at the 'good' Kirk and said he was made of love and tenderness, and that was what made him an exceptional leader. Kirk could vividly recall his disgust when Spock had so emotionlessly pointed out that it was his evil side, proper and controlled, that wasvital to his strength. Evil to command, but tenderness for greatness. Somehow, it didn't seem to balance out enough.

"If I seem insensitive to what you are going through captain, understand it is the way I am." Spock's cold words had not matched his tone, Jim could remember that clearly. But the lack of sympathy had hurt. When Spock needed him, Jim was there. It wasn't logical to assume the Vulcan would invest emotional assistance, but….he had once. When Gary…

Jim sighed. He had to let this go. He couldn't spend the rest of his life hammering out his feelings over what amounted to less than 24 hours.

"We all have our darker side, we need it. It's half of what we are. It's not really ugly, it's human." Bones was right. He needed all of himself to have the strength of command. But he'd almost backed out when he'd heard those words. "He's dead, Jim." The dog was dead on the transporter pad, unmoving yet whole. His own fate played out before him.

In that instant he'd hated them both, Spock and McCoy. His two friends didn't seem to be trying very hard to understand what this was like for him. They both wanted to experiment, analysis, and dissect him. But then Spock had taken him aside and in the dark eyes, sympathy had finally shown. Spock had given him his innate belief and his loyalty. And Jim couldn't betray that. Not after he realized the truth. Spock was engaged in just this sort of battle everyday. His Vulcan half could see and feel his human half at every moment. And it was as appalled by it as Jim was of his own animalistic side. What had happened to him was Spock's internal battle played out in the open instead of inside the thin man. And Spock was talking from personal experience when he said intelligence would see Jim through. So the captain had fought.

And when it had come down to it, Spock had known exactly what to do to make the impostor obvious. His friend had finally stood by him in a way more substantial than a guarded look.

Jim sat up in bed and flicked the light on. Yes, Spock had come through for him. And he'd hurt the alien when he'd made his soft request. He wasn't sure anyone else had understood what Jim had asked, but Spock had. He'd made sure the Vulcan knew that if the transporter didn't work, if he wasn't back in one piece and normal, to kill him. And that silent order would have been obeyed. Kirk had no doubt of that. Spock would have given up his own career to carry out his captain's last order.

And the look of utter relief on Spock's face and in his voice as the transporter fuzz had dissipated. At that moment he knew everything was all right. He didn't even need to look around to make sure. He knew he was back without any self-examination. That look was enough to tell him.

Only, it wasn't right. He'd seen what no man should ever see.

He kicked the covers back. He HAD to stop this. How did Spock handle this endless self-evaluation?

A gentle low chime sounded in the cabin and Jim looked up in surprise. Spock's calm voice filtered through the com, "Captain, may I come in?"

"Enter" Jim muttered without much enthusiasm, as he got off the bed to pull on clothing. Spock walked in and stood calmly next to the small table as Jim got dressed.

When he'd finished, Jim turned to find Spock holding out a steaming cup of tea.

"I took the liberty of making you a cup of Vulcan tea. I find it…helpful." Spock said softly.

Jim took that to mean the Vulcan found it calming, but regardless Jim took it from him with careful hands and sipped. It was sweet and a little spicy. It reminded him strongly of chai but instead of milk there was a thicker darker liquid mixed in. And it did…help.

Spock pulled one of the chairs out from the table and sat down. Jim followed suit. Spock didn't say anything, didn't ask a single question. He just sat there while Jim sipped his tea and when the cup was empty he took it from Jim's hands just as the tears started to fall. Spock didn't say a word as Jim lost his composure. He didn't pull away when his human friend reached out for his arm, needing some form of contact however light. And Spock didn't leave until he'd made sure Jim was finally asleep, easing his way just as he had after their first mission together.

It didn't take much to push the human into slumber, not with his hand clutching Spock's arm through the thick uniform. One little mental suggestion and Jim fell asleep with his head on the table, his arm stretched across the surface, his hand still wrapped around Spock's wrist. Ever so careful Spock moved him back to the bed and set the blankets back in place.

As the door swished shut behind Spock and he moved to the wall comm to once again leave orders not to disturb the captain, he wondered: Was this what it meant to be a friend? Did being a friend mean sharing this pain? Spock hoped Jim found the duality of his nature easier to bear. After all, there wasn't enough tea on board for both of them.


	5. Men Released and Vulcans

James Kirk could admit he wasn't sleeping well. He could admit he was…depressed. He could even admit that he hurt like hell. What he wasn't sure he could admit was that he was worried.

While he should be comforting McCoy, helping his old friend through what had to be the man's personal version of hell, Jim instead found himself sitting alone in his quarters worrying about his first officer. Bones was drinking himself into oblivion with the help of Scotty and Uhura was doing her best to flirt him back into spirits. Bones was fine. The entire ship was handing out sympathy and distraction.

Spock, on the other hand, was walking around pretending he didn't get used as a punching bag by a homicidal hunger crazed salt sucking alien. He had to hurt just as bad as Kirk, maybe worse. Spock had not only had the creature attempt to drain him of salt, he'd also been knocked about by the thing – twice. The sparkly silver bandage was still on Spock's forehead and Jim couldn't get the image of the green blood out of his head. Not that the wound was serious. Hardly. He'd seen Spock more bloodied by a training session in the gym. It was the fact that this time it _looked_ like it hurt. Spock had _looked_ injured. His voice, the way he laid on the medical bed, it was obvious that Spock _hurt_. He'd never seen Spock in pain before. It…made him seem human. And if he ever said that out loud Spock was sure to remind him, in detail, exactly how unhuman he was.

Jim rolled over and stared at the wall. Maybe he should get up and take one of those red pills McCoy had prescribed. He'd been living off the things since...for to long anyway. It was one thing to take a sleeping pill every once in a while. It was another to depend on them. Jim Kirk did not like depending on little red pills.

Maybe he could con some tea off Spock? That stuff was about as good as the pills. One drink and he'd been out for _hours_.

Jim sat up in bed and tiredly rubbed at his neck. He was still aching from the thing trying to pull the salt out of him. Spock had to be asleep and after the day they'd had he didn't need his captain rousing him for a cup of tea.

Besides, Jim reminded himself, he should be with Bones anyway. A man needed his friends at a time like this.

Jim got up and pulled on a uniform, his muscles protesting at every little movement. It was after midnight ship's time and the halls were empty as he made his way towards the rec room. Chances were that Scotty and Uhura were still there with McCoy. They'd commandeered the place earlier that evening with only command staff allowed in. McCoy didn't need a bunch of young puppies bouncing about. He needed the seasoned crew, the ones that had seen and done things and _knew_ what it was like. Maybe not _exactly_ what it was like, but they'd all lived through things just as bad in one way or another. Bones needed that. He needed proof that life moves on. In a day or a week he'd stop thinking about Nancy and the 'buffalo' creature as they'd started calling it. In a month they'd have all moved on.

But tonight was for morning. For Nancy and Dr. Crater. For the creature. For the universe.

The door to the rec room swished open and Jim wasn't at all surprised that he'd been right. Bones and Scotty were still nursing a bottle in the corner. Uhura had Spock's harp out and Sulu, Rand, and Chapel were all hovering in the corner. What did surprise him was the rather stiff looking Vulcan sitting alone at a table just beside the door. Evidently Spock hadn't wanted to abandon Bones either.

Jim slipped into the seat next to Spock and gave him a quick once over. "Spock, if you hurt half as bad as you look you ought to be loaded down with pain killers and half comatose."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I was unaware I appeared to be in distress."

Jim sighed. "Takes one to know one. I feel like the _Enterprise_ did a hit and run on me at warp 8."

Spock nodded once. "A particularly colorful metaphor but I will concur with the sentiment." Spock paused and turned his dark eyes in the direction of the CMO. "However, I believe the good doctor is in considerably more pain than either of us."

Jim looked over at the slumped McCoy and sighed. "Yeah, yeah he is."


	6. Naked Time Remembered RevisedReposted

_**A/N: This is the chapter that started it all. Originally published as a stand alone under the title Naked Time Remembered. **_

* * *

With the course laid in, Captain James T. Kirk let himself relax. He could have sworn he felt Spock let out a similar held breath behind him. He felt more than heard Bones shuffle his feet a bit before making a cheeky comment about how he thought Vulcan's didn't sweat, so how could Spock have been infected? Jim didn't hear Spock's reply. He really didn't have the energy to listen to this all over again. It was always the same with those two. Normally, he found the banter amusing, and he'd jump right in with them. Playing one off the other. But right now, he couldn't summon enough enthusiasm to even pay attention.

What a three days. Seeing his crew slowly going mad and not being able to stop it. That damn singing echoing in the halls of his ship...his ship. For a moment Jim felt the emptiness again. He closed his eyes for a second before he felt a hand come to rest on his right shoulder. Spock. At least one person understood him. Jim opened his eyes and looked up at his friend, the words 'you have the bridge' on the tip of his tongue. He stopped himself just in time. The Vulcan's eyes were tired. Not that Spock would ever say anything, but Jim could see his exhaustion written there plain as his pointed ears. Fighting the virus had taken its toll on both of them.

"Sulu, you have the bridge. Spock, Doctor, I believe we could all use a well deserved break." Jim slowly stood up and started for the turbo-lift, Spock two steps behind him.

"You go on, Jim. I've got some tests to run down in Sickbay. I need to be doubly sure everyone infected got the vaccine. If not, we could be going through this all over again." Bones pulled out his hypo-spray and waggled it at the Captain.

Jim flinched slightly and grimaced, rubbing his shoulder. "There are days I think you enjoy your job to much, Doctor." The answering smirk was practically blinding. Jim refrained from rising to the bait and with a dismissive wave, he got into the lift and let the doors whish shut behind him. It took him a moment to realize that Spock was still next to him. In all honesty, he'd expected the Vulcan to put up a fight and argue to stay on the bridge. After all, right after such an emergency it was unusual to leave junior members of the crew in charge. He turned a weary eye to his first officer and noticed the alien could not seem to make eye contact.

"Spock?"

"Yes Captain?" Spock's voice seemed distant, yet he wasn't appearing to be avoiding company.

Jim took in the stiff stance of his fellow officer and took a long shot. "Spock, care to stop by my quarters for a drink? I think we both deserve one."

It took several seconds for the other man to answer; he seemed to be waging an internal battle of some kind. "That would be most kind, Captain."

"Jim."

Spock paused, "Jim."

Kirk smiled. You always had to remind Spock to call you something other than your rank when the Vulcan was nervous. Of course, Spock would never admit to being nervous. Hell no. But Jim could tell. So could McCoy at times. But Jim somehow just _knew_ what his first officer was feeling. Even if the pointy eared sourpuss didn't. Right now, the man was mortified of his behavior in the conference room. He saw his emotional breakdown as a personal deficiency. 'When I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed.' The words echoed in Jim's mind. Spock was ashamed of being his friend. Ashamed of half of himself, his human half. That simply would not do.

They made it down the corridor to his quarters without meeting anyone. Both men completely silent. Kirk took out a bottle of scotch he'd gotten at the last Starbase and set it down on the small table. Neither man reached for it. The silence was getting heavy.

"Captain, I must apologize for my behavior during this crisis. My _emotions_ were inappropriate and my physical assault on you in response to your words is deserving of formal reprimand..." Spock trailed off, his dark eyes staring unseeing at the gray wall over Kirk's head.

"Spock," Jim shook his head and cleared his throat. "Spock, your emotions were not 'inappropriate'. They simply were. At least you weren't fondling the bulk heads." Jim smiled but Spock didn't even lift an eyebrow. Jim ran a hand through his hair in frustration and stood up to put on a shirt that didn't have a giant tear in it. Maybe he should have put this off until they both had some rest. To late now.

"Look Spock, we all have issues with things. Maybe you should try and meet yours head on instead of repressing it." The last was muffled by the golden cloth as he pulled the new uniform shirt down.

Spock slowly met his eyes. "Vulcan's do not discuss their emotions, Jim."

Kirk sighed in relief. He'd called him Jim. That meant they could keep this next part as friend to friend and not captain to officer. "That doesn't mean they don't have them. Ignoring a part of yourself isn't going to make it go away. And would you really want it to? Ask yourself that, Spock. Would you really want to be completely without emotions? Would you want to go everyday feeling nothing at all? No friendship, no camaraderie, no happiness?"

"It is what is expected." Spock's voice was hard, almost mechanical.

Jim pounded a fist into the wall next to him. "Damn it, Spock! It is not what's expected! Name one Vulcan, one lousy Vulcan, that's that cold. Name one. You can't! They don't exist. The ideal you work so hard to achieve is impossible." Kirk looked back at his friend and took in his startled expression – revealed only in the dark inky depths of his eyes. "Tell me honestly, at any time did Surak ever say you should not have emotions? He argued for control, Spock. Control, not elimination. You're trying to be more Vulcan than Vulcan. It's not fair to yourself. And I'll be damned if it's logical."

The L word seemed to shake loose something in the tall man. He leaned forward and let his head rest on his arms at the table, like he had done in the conference room. His voice came out shaky and muffled. "You don't understand, Jim. I can't be anything less. Every Vulcan looks at me twice as hard as they do others. They are hovering right next to me waiting for a mistake. Waiting to prove I'm not worthy of them. I've worked so hard...and it's never enough. Nothing is _ever _enough."

Jim crossed the short distance and risked a hand on his friend's shoulder. Spock was almost vibrating with some contained emotion and Kirk lowered himself to kneel next to the chair. His hand wasn't shaken off and he let it rest there. The higher body temperature under his hand made him painfully aware that this wasn't any normal crewmember with a problem. This wasn't a junior lieutenant on their first space flight, hovering on the edge of some kind of a break down. This was Spock. His Spock. His annoying, almost always right, unflappable, Spock. This side of the Vulcan was something he'd never thought he'd see. Damn the virus. Spock was never supposed to be vulnerable. It just wasn't right.

The Vulcan went on in a quiet voice. "I don't understand how she has lived there for so long. A human among _us_. How does she not feel isolated? How can she stand never receiving a kind word from anyone outside of her husband and from him only in private? How can she take his unending demands and lack of all empathy? How does she manage it?"

Kirk rubbed a small circle on Spock's tense back. "Maybe she doesn't." Spock sat up quickly, knocking Jim's hand away and looked him in the eye. Caught in the gaze, Jim took a deep breath. "Maybe your father's not as emotionless as you think he is."

Spock would have snorted if he had been human. "You have never met my father." He turned away again and seemed to pull whatever shields he normally had around his emotions back into place with some difficulty. The residual effects of the virus were still making it difficult for him to maintain even a semblance of control.

Jim laughed. "Trust me, you're not the first Vulcan I've ever met, Spock. Your father can't be that different from the rest of your people. And I have yet to meet one that didn't have emotions. Usually complete disdain for the upstart human, or anger at something Star Fleet was doing, but they had emotion all right. Usually a large helping of something negative too."

Spock looked skeptical, and his eyebrow was almost lost in his hairline.

"Have some faith, Spock. You're not odd. And your human half isn't making you any less

Vulcan. Really."

Spock forced his eyebrow back to its normal slant and made a gallant effort to hide his still present doubt. "I am sorry, Jim."

"Don't go apologizing for being less than an inanimate object. And maybe you should write your mother while you're at it. I'm not telling you to start spouting your love for her, which if she's human she already knows, but she'd most likely be ecstatic to hear from you."

Spock shook his head in the negative. "Father and I have not spoken since I joined Star Fleet against his wishes."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Write your mother not your father. I'm sure she can get letters, right?"

Spock turned slowly to make eye contact. "She is capable of the act, but she would insist on reading the letter to father to try and make us 'get along'." The Vulcan's eyes hardened. "That is not possible."

Jim felt a moment of pure sadness cross him. What had this man's father done to him to make him so... Jim shook the thought off. Spock wasn't the first person in history to have a lousy demanding father. Hell, according to his ex-wife, Jim himself wasn't even worthy of visitation rights.

Spock's voice cut into his thoughts, "But that is not what I was apologizing for, Jim." The Vulcan again paused, as if working up the courage. "I am sorry you found out about my inner conflict with regards to our friendship."

Jim smiled and moved to sit back down in his own chair. "Hey, I was just happy to know you do consider me a friend. And Bones would say you _should_ feel ashamed of me, I'm not all that respectable in most circles. Heaven knows why they gave me a Starship, let alone Enterprise."

Spock shook his head. "No Jim, it is not you who I am ashamed off. It is myself. Vulcan's should not feel friendship. It is an emotion that is alien to us."

Kirk picked up the scotch and poured two glasses. "I think you're wrong about that, Spock. But just incase you're not, here's to being half-human." He raised his glass and waited for Spock to do so as well. When he didn't, Jim downed his own in a single shot and set it back down. "Someday, Spock, I know you are going to come to understand that you don't have to be one or the other. You're both at the same time. And that's why we like you." Jim leaned back in his chair. "None of us meet the exact stereotype of our race. Life doesn't work that way. The true goal of existence is to be yourself. If that means you start wearing purple feathers off duty, I wouldn't think less of you. I'd be concerned and order a psych exam, but you'd still be my friend. If your father can't give you the same kind of acceptance, than he's not worth your time. No one is if they can't take you as you are. You're Spock. End of story. Now all you need to do is figure out what that means."

"Sometimes, Jim, you surprise me. The warrior poet in you is also a councilor." Spock stood up to leave and Jim felt almost reluctant to be alone. Spock seemed to sense it and paused just next to the door. "Jim, your beach may be made of metal and not sand, you may not have beautiful blond women in your arms, but you are not alone. You have your… friends." The last word seemed almost pained, and Spock didn't wait for a reply, but stepped out into the corridor with a whish.

Jim sat there for a moment and let the conversation play back in his mind. He really wasn't alone, was he? The Enterprise might take up most of his time and energy, but was it the ship or the crew that mattered to him the most? Would he feel the same way for these corridors if Spock and Bones weren't here? Would it feel the same if Scotty wasn't manning the engines and Uhura's voice didn't play over the ship's intercom? Kirk reached over the table and picked up Spock's untouched glass. No, it wasn't the metal that made the Enterprise, it was the people. And that beach he wanted, like Spock's search for the perfect recipe for being Vulcan, it was not really that important. And not really what he wanted. At least not now. Now he had a new mission, making Spock understand that to be himself, he could never forget about his birth. Spock was half-human. Kirk vowed to make sure the pointy eared, green blooded, science officer never again tried to forget that. And never again felt shame for something as wonderful and vital as having a friend.

Space was cold. They could all use all the warmth they could get.


End file.
